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for a few bucks a day.”
    “Did he have a home?”
    “A little place in Monterey. I never sold it. Never did anything with it, in fact. It’s still mostly the way it was when he went missin’. And, yeah, I know what you’re gonna ask. Back in ’seventy-three I had some people go through his house lookin’ for clues, but they didn’t find nothin’. You’re welcome to look for yourselves, though. Zee’ll get you the info.”
    “Did Frank go there?”
    “No, he didn’t think it’d be worth it.”
    “Tell us about the latest sighting,” Sam said.
    “About six weeks ago a National Geographic crew was doing some spread on an old city out there—Lo Manta somethin’ or another—”
    “Lo Monthang,” Remi offered.
    “Yeah, that’s the place. Used to be the capital of Mustang.”
    Like most people, King pronounced the name as he would the horse.
    “It’s pronounced Moos-tong,” Remi replied. “It was also known as the Kingdom of Lo, before it was absorbed by Nepal in the eighteenth century.”
    “Whatever you say. Never did like that sort of stuff. Fell kind of far from the tree, I guess. Anyway, in one of the photos they took there’s this guy in the background. A dead ringer for my dad—or at least how I think he’d look after nearly forty years.”
    “That’s not much to go on,” Sam said.
    “It’s all I’ve got. Still wanna take a crack at it?”
    “Of course we do.”
    Sam and Remi stood up to leave. They shook hands all around. “Zee’s got my contact info in there. You’ll be giving her updates. Let me know what you find. I’d appreciate regular reports. Good huntin’, Fargos.”
     
     
    Charles King stood in the doorway of his Gulfstream and watched the Fargos return through the gate, mount their scooters, then disappear down the road. Zhilan Hsu came walking back through the gate, trotted up the plane’s stairs, and stopped in front of King.
    “I do not like them,” she said.
    “And why is that?”
    “They do not show you enough respect.”
    “I can do without that, darlin’. Just as long as they live up to their reputation. From what I’ve read, those two have a real knack for this kind of thing.”
    “And if they go beyond what we ask of them?”
    “Well, hell, that’s why I’ve got you, ain’t it?”
    “Yes, Mr. King. Shall I go there now?”
    “No, let’s let things unfold natural-like. Get Russ on the horn, will ya?”
    King walked aft and dropped into one of the recliners with a grunt. A minute later Zhilan’s voice came over the intercom. “I have him ready for you, Mr. King. Please stand by.”
    King waited for the warbled squelch that told him the satellite line was open. “Russ, you there?”
    “I’m here.”
    “How’s the dig goin’?”
    “On track. Had some problems with a local making a fuss, but we took care of him. Marjorie’s in the pit right now, cracking the whip.”
    “I’ll bet she is! She’s a pistol. Just keep a sharp eye out for them inspectors. They ain’t supposed to show up outta the blue. I’m paying outta my ears as it is. Anything extra I’m takin’ outta your salary.”
    “I’ve got it under control.”
    “Good. Now, tell me somethin’ good. Find anything juicy?”
    “Not yet. But we came across some trace fossils that our expert says are promising.”
    “Yeah, well, I’ve heard that before. You forgettin’ about that con man in Perth?”
    “No, sir.”
    “The one who told you he had one of them Malagasy dwarf hippo fossils? He was supposed to be an expert too.”
    “And I handled him, didn’t I?”
    King paused. His scowl faded, and he chuckled. “That, you did. But listen up, son. I want one of them Calico whatchamacallits. A real one.”
    “Chalicotherium,” Russ corrected.
    “I don’t give a damn what it’s called! Latin! God save me. Just get me one! I already told that no-good Don Mayfield I got one comin’, and I got a space all ready for it. We clear?”
    “Yes, sir, we’re